CHAPTER 2 - Cute In A Broken Sort of Way

I recover stuff. Mostly stolen stuff. Mostly very expensive stuff. I charge up to half the value of what I recover, paying expenses. If I get nothing back, I get half of nothing. Learned this old trick from Travis McGee.
I was reflecting upon this choice of occupation of mine while enjoying a perfect Key West morning in my "Old Town" crash-pad/office that took up the 2nd & 3rd floors of an old Conch House. I call this place a cross between a Tree House & a Luxury Hotel Suite. It's one of the oldest houses on the island - an old growth Royal Poinciana that covered almost the whole house. Lots of lush tropical plants - it indeed felt like being in a tree house. While my personal rooms took up the 3rd floor attic, the 2nd floor was completely open, the kitchen was all stainless steel and black glass, with a marble toped counter/island, with only 3 tall director type chairs. The rest of the 2nd floor was wide open with dark Brazilian hardwood floors and stained Dade County Pine walls. Aside from one nice leather couch almost in the middle of the room, the only other furniture consisted of my large desk shoved into one corner and a smaller desk a few feet away. I liked having the open space - it was much easier to keep clean.
I just returned form a recovery job that had me flying clandestinely into Georgetown Grand Cayman, slipping back out before sunrise and flying below radar over to Jamaica for fuel and then on to the Bahamas. I reclaimed the passport that had my real name and took the Air Bahamas noon flight back to Miami.
A 3 hour Go-Fast boat ride down through the intra coastal waterway and I was tied up at the sea wall of my boyhood home on Key Haven. A 5 minute motor scooter ride and I was back downtown.
“So how much is that check for?” Marlene, my accountant asked. I was sitting at my big desk absently watching people walking their dogs on William Street. Marlene was at the little desk.
“6 and a half million Euro's” I replied.
"What the hell is a Euro?" I had my back turned to her but I got a mental snapshot of the mischievous look that had to be in her eyes. I could hear the laughter in her Miami Cuban accent. A Spanish Harlem Mona Lisa she was, quoting Brother Carlos because no other words worked as well in describing her beauty.
Sure enough, the corner of her pencil thin lips as they pressed together in the smirk that had to be there. She barked out a laugh. "Captain! You were looking so serious… you know I love when you smile like little boy.. I needed to see that this morning".
Damn, be still my beating heart!
“Seriously,” Marlene added. “Why Euro's? I thought it was dollars that was stolen..”
”When I caught up with the transfers the money was in Euro's." I explained while rubbing my forehead, trying to ease an oncoming headache. "It was then or never. 6.5 was the earnings of the exchange when I converted the who bundle back to dollars. I'm keeping it as a bonus." Marlene’s fingers went flying over the keys of her calculator. “Captain!” She said, “You got the whole $100 million back…..”
“Yes Mam." I replied, the aches in my body making me laugh at the term Bone Weary. "That I did….”
After a few long moments, Marlene spoke again, “And are the bad guys going to hold a grudge?”
“Not this time Honey. Not this time..” the headache was starting to build. “Here” I said, passing her the Bank Check for the Euros from the Bank of Scotland. I was just in Georgetown Grand Cayman that morning and the bank manager being very accommodating produced the check in record time.
“And you better take this too..” I said while passing a folded in half piece of paper with bank account numbers. “The full Hundred Million is there, all in US dollars. Can you call Father Tony and ask how they want to handle transferring the funds back to the Church?”
The story behind this is rather long, rather interesting and rather intense. The short version is crooks stole $100 million form the Catholic Church in Miami Dade County. I found out who, how although never learned the exact specifics of why.
“Captain…” Marlene hesitated, worry in her voice. "That's too much money for the bad guys not to want it back…...”
That headache was starting to kick my ass. I needed a drink. “I took care if it Marlene. It's as over as over can be.”
I didn’t want to go into detail, but the chain of events will forever be burned into my brain. Just this morning at about 2 am. Christ! Was it really less than 20 hours ago? I had sleazed my way into the large house on Cayman Brac that the crooks were using as a safe house. Through a bit of intense persuasion, the computer guy told all.
After acquiring the account numbers, usernames and passwords, the transfer of the funds went rather smoothly. In less than 5 minutes, I had the whole amount back and converted into good old US Dollars – plus my unexpected bonus from the exchange rate as the money had been converted into Euro's by the bad guys.
The “Bad Guys” were 4 brothers, plus the computer guy. Well, the computer guy wasn't "Bad" per se, just unlucky. The brothers were Cuba Cubans from Isla de Pina, as compared to Miami Cubans. It was pretty clever, how they stole the $100 million for the church. It was pretty fricken amazing how I found them - completely by accident! From an innocent remark out of the mouth of a high-class call girl in Boden Town on Grand Cayman.
I wasn’t looking for the bad guys. I actually was on a quick 2 day escape from Key West. A friend of mine, a Senator's wife, runs a “Retreat for Discerning Gentlemen Who like to be Pampered by Young Happy Females".
I was in the comfort of such females. By my second day there all the girls felt comfortable with my presence to openly gossip.
“What does "Merda en Diez” mean?" one of the girls asked another while I was longing watching a Miami Dolphins football game.
“Shit ten times?” one of the others replied.
I had to smile. I caught on immediately. It was an old-school Cuban Gangster slang/curse. The translation was “Shit On God”. Here's the difference:
"Merda en Diez" Means "Shit on Ten".
"Merda en Dios" Means Shit on God".
"Merda en Dios" was Bad JuJu. Aside from it being an obvious thing not to say, regardless of the reason, because you're specifically telling God you're going to shit on Her Head. It's got this really strong negative vide to it.